Lover's Rock
by Little Witch1
Summary: "A week after they make up she stuffs everything Emily Gilmore ever bought her in garbage bags and takes them to Goodwill." S6 AU. Rory/Logan with implied Rory/Jess.
1. Chapter 1

Lover's Rock

Part I

He's losing her.

A week after they make up (get back together, _whatever_ ) she stuffs everything Emily Gilmore ever bought her in garbage bags and takes them to Goodwill. She fills the empty spaces in her closet with thrift store t-shirts, and cotton blouses, and jeans she stole from her mother; one good dress she wears to every function he takes her to. "Honor can take you shopping," he suggests, because they're friends and they did it all the time, before. "That's okay," she says, and laces up a pair of five-year-old shoes.

Two weeks later she's organising her CDs by genre, surrounded by a tangle of Ikea wire racks. The week after that, he comes over and she's gluing the shade on an ugly floral lamp. Soon, he never knows what he'll find when he visits her: Liza from community service peeling a nicotine patch in the kitchen or Lorelai borrowing jewelry; Luke fixing the radiator, or Marty watching _Duck Soup_ , or Lane's band arguing over who has to crash on the floor. Sometimes it takes him a full minute to get through the doorway, forcing himself to fit.

Tonight she's alone, wearing sweats and an old Distillers tee. She's covered the kitchen table in textbooks and an open bag of marshmallows. Her hair is up. Something loud is on the stereo.

"It's Friday night, Ace," he says, sitting across from her.

"I know," she mumbles, scribbling on a notecard.

"So stop working and come out! You're done with your grandparents for the week, midterms aren't for another month—come on! We could meet Finn and Rosemary in New York, it'll be fun."

"I have to study."

" _Ace_."

"It's ten o'clock, Logan."

"So?"

Her hand freezes for a second, the tip of her pen digging in to the card. When she finally moves it, the period is big and dark. "You know I'm taking a five class load this semester, and I lost time last weekend when I went to Stars Hollow to meet April, and I have to do this so I can graduate on time."

"I know."

"I can't go out like I used to."

"I know, Ace."

"I'm sorry, I just—" She scratches her head, loosening her hair. There's ink on her knuckles. "I'll finish this in a half hour, and then we can do something."

He frowns and shifts in his seat. He nods. "What the hell is this, anyway?"

"The Clash."

"You've never listened to them before."

"I did. I always did."

She turns a page, her brow furrowing and she grabs her phone, shooting off a text message. She fills more notecards, and eats six marshmallows, and he reads two New York Times articles before a reply chimes. A smile flickers on to her face, and an ugly part of him wants to ask who she's talking to because her eyes are never that bright when she talks to Paris or Lane or her mom. She never blushes when she's dealing with Glenn from the Yale Daily News. When she pins her hair behind her ear and reaches for her pen, he swears her hand trembles.

He stands. "Rory, come on."

She makes a note and closes her textbook; she sets down her phone. "There's a video store around the corner. I was thinking a nostalgia tour; _Grease_ , _Back to the Future_ , _Almost Famous_ , _Dazed and Confused_. And Chinese, I'm _craving_ Kung Pao chicken."

"What?"

She pulls on sheepskin boots and a jacket and a fraying scarf. Grinning, she jingles her keys. "Come on, Huntzberger."

Tomorrow he'll wake up and Doyle will be doing tai chi in the living room. On Wednesday, Zach will drop off an end table and spend an hour arguing the merits of Joan Jett. But today, he follows her.

 _Oh, guns of Brixton._

* * *

Disclaimer

I own nothing.

Author's Note:

This fic is set somewhere between "Balalaikas" and "The Real Paul Anka", and obviously AU. I just wish we got to see Rory becoming herself again. The title is from a Clash song.


	2. Chapter 2

Lover's Rock

Part II

"Stop the car," she says.

"What?"

"Pull over. I need to change."

They're driving back to New Haven after dinner with Rory's grandparents, dressed to impress and smelling of Emily's goodbye kiss Chanel. It's raining and the roads are dark and all he wants is a big glass of scotch. But they're going to see Hep Alien play at a bar, and Logan figures the best he'll get is a beer.

"Change in to what?" he asks.

She grins, pulling a backpack from the floor and hurling herself in to the backseat. He watches her kick off her shoes through the rear-view mirror; watches her shimmy out of her dress and replace it with jeans and a low-cut black top. Her hair becomes wonderfully ruffled. She reminds him of Patti Smith, with her bangs still growing out.

"Done," she says, settling back under her seatbelt. "Are you going like that?"

He looks down at the Armani suit, sans tie. "What's wrong with it?"

"Clearly, you've never been to a rock show."

He laughs, or he thinks he does, and pulls back in to the lane. "No one is going to notice," he says when they get there, cold and damp under the bar's shit lighting. Gil is on stage doing scales, and Lane is pacing, and Brain is sucking on his inhaler. Rory sinks in to the gathering crowd. He orders two bottles of the most expensive beer.

"I'm going to throw up," Lane groans when he meets her, handing Rory a drink. "What if we suck? What if Zach forgets all the words to 'Highway to Hell' again?"

"Lane, you're going to be fine. But maybe skip ACDC," Rory soothes.

"Dude," Zach says to him, as he ambles over and plugs his guitar in to an amp, "who died?"

They're opening for an out-of-state band and by ten o'clock the bar is packed. Logan and Rory squeeze around a table full of drunk college kids and teenagers with fake IDs; a guy with a green Mohawk thumbing through a book while they wait. The beer is terrible. Rory's practically vibrating in her seat.

"I know the author!" she says, tapping Mohawk man's book.

"Seriously?" he says.

"It's so great, isn't it? It's…amazing!"

"I just got it today, before I came here. Thought the cover looked cool."

"You're going to love it! It's just…it's the most original thing I've ever read. That's my unbiased opinion, I swear."

Mohawk man smiles. "I'm Clyde."

"Rory." She shakes his hand. "I'm also friends with the drummer."

"No shit!"

Then the show starts and it's nothing but guitar and bass and Iggy Pop scratching at the walls; Nirvana and the Pixies and two Zach van Gerbig originals. Clyde drags Rory to the front for some mild moshing, and when they get back she's sweaty and beautiful and laughing so loud. They look good, he thinks bitterly, and drinks two more beers.

The air rings when it's over and he liked it, really he did. But he's tired and hot and sick in his gut, and he just wants to take Rory and leave. She's wandered off again and he finds her by the stage, making change for a Hep Alien CD. Clyde is beside her, talking to Lane. Logan's chest feels tight.

"Come on, Ace, let's go," he says, too loudly.

"I promised I'd help with sales while they pack up," she says.

"Rory."

"Ten minutes, Logan, please."

They stay for twenty and he hands her the keys. He sleeps the whole way home.

* * *

Author's Note:

This was originally supposed to be a one-shot, but LEJ418 convinced me to make it longer. I'm aiming for at least four parts. Part I has been slightly changed.


	3. Chapter 3

Lover's Rock

Part III

She's reading. It's early and he's had the worst week—assignments due for three classes and a flat tire and a two-hour lunch with his mother—and all he wants is to relax. He wants dinner and a tumbler of whiskey. He wants to lie on a beach in LA. The family jet is always full of gas.

Rory is reading.

"We'll do sushi. There's a new restaurant in Stamford; Colin knows the owner. We can be there in an hour, let's go!"

"I've got dinner with my grandparents," she tells him, turning a page. "And I was going to spend the weekend in Stars Hollow."

"Ace."

"You can come, if you want. Grandma's new maid always makes these tiny portions so we're going to get burgers from Luke's after. And April's staying over, so you can finally meet her!"

"Are you sure we can all fit in your house?"

"They added a second bedroom during the remodel, but we can always stay at the diner."

He tries to imagine it, waking to the smell of pancakes and the sound of a dozen people he's only heard about in stories. He thinks about breakfast with her mother, at a table small enough that he could reach across it and touch her. His chest warms even as discomfort bubbles in his stomach. Because this is Lorelai; she'd probably bite his hand off.

"You don't have to," she says quickly, closing her book around her finger. "It's just, my therapist said it would be good for me to do the things I liked from before everything got…crazy."

"I understand." He plucks at the blanket that's spread beneath him on the sofa. "And this is what you'll be doing until we leave?"

"Reading."

"How about I meet you there?"

He rolls in to Stars Hollow at eight-thirty, parking next to the market. It's idyllic, the kind of place he's seen in pictures and old reruns of _Leave It to Beaver_ , and it's hard to believe that Rory grew up here. That tiny bookstore couldn't possibly have Anais Nin. The nearest Starbucks is in Woodbury. But there she is in the diner, elbow-deep in a burger and fries.

"Hey!" she exclaims with her mouth full. Lorelai is sitting beside her; Luke is on the phone.

"How was dinner?" he asks, sliding on to a stool.

"Short. Mom and grandma got in to a fight. We only made it through the salad course."

"And you should be thanking me," Lorelai says. "The main was liver."

"Yeah, they should be heading out before Easter," Luke says as he nears, topping up Lorelai's coffee. "Well how should I know?…Hey, she's proud of you…I don't know, make him take himself for a walk…He's your stepfather…You got any magic pens? Send him for magic pens…Well, if your stalker gets him then isn't that a win-win?"

Rory nearly chokes on a fry. "He has a stalker?"

Luke shrugs. "Some guy name Clyde."

"Let me talk to him!"

Rory grabs the phone, tugging more slack in to the chord. "Two e-mails does not make a stalker!" she says, smiling through her outrage. Logan's heart jumps. "He likes your work…In a bar…He is not a psycho! Lane will back me up…Shut up…Well, if he stabs you in the shower you won't be around to say I told you so…Jess… _Jess_ …Oh my god, bye!"

"What's the rebel with a cause doing now?" Lorelai asks as Rory hands the phone back.

"Being _ridiculous_."

"Next time, tell him his book is weird."

"You read it?"

"And it's weird."

He's sitting beside them but this might as well be the Huntzberger table, thirty feet of oak and floral arrangements isolating every guest. That was never difficult to work around (he's always been gregarious), but somehow this is. He can't find a place to jump in to the conversation. He's not sure they'd even notice if he tried.

He takes out his phone. "Hey Ace, look, I don't think I can stay. Colin's having some kind of crisis, and I've got…I've got to go."

"Oh," she says, concerned and sad and a little bit relieved, and he's having trouble deciphering why. Like she's a book that's changing language as he reads.

His heart pounds and he kisses her, hard. "I'll call you on Monday."

It takes everything in him not to run to his car.


	4. Chapter 4

Lover's Rock

Part IV

The morning of his sister's wedding he takes a garment bag and his best shoes to Rory's apartment. It's a Friday, which he thinks is a bit weird for a wedding. Honor wanted two days to sleep off the hangover.

Clyde is there when he arrives, eating strawberry Pop Tarts and watching TV.

"We're out of soy milk," Clyde tells Logan when he lets himself in. There's a sketch pad on the sofa. Clyde is a part-time artist who sells his work on the internet. The other part works at a record store.

"And?"

"Rory went to get some."

"And why are you here?" Logan mutters, only half to himself.

"I wanted to show Rory some concept art for Hep Alien's new album." Clyde says, frowning. "What's your problem, man?"

Logan shrugs, tossing his bag on to a chair and pouring himself a glass of juice. _Kaddish_ is on the table and he picks it up, flipping through the poem. Each page is stained black with ink.

He drops it, draining his glass and turning on the spot and tripping over something on the floor, nearly smacking face-first in to the fridge and a magnet of Henry VIII. "Shit," he snaps, and kicks the thing on the ground. Rory's Birkin bag skids across the floor.

His throat tightens and the back of his neck starts to itch and he stares like it's a snake spilling out of the bag and not a mess of computer chords. That goddamn bag that she wore three times and he never saw again. He thought she got it, that Honor explained or her grandmother or she _Googled_ it for Christ's sake, but there it is with a fucking water stain. He wants to throw up. He hurls Ginsberg's marked-up book across the room.

"Shit, Logan!" Clyde says, standing.

"Shut up, Clyde," he growls.

Then, the door opens. "You boys forget the locks?" Rory asks, kicking off her shoes and fastening the deadbolt. She's not wearing any makeup; his hands start to shake.

"Yeah," Logan rasps.

"Someday, we're going to get robbed."

She puts the soy milk away and kisses his cheek, making for the sofa before stilling. She picks up her book, reverently smoothing the pages. The whole time, Clyde glares at him.

At the wedding when the priest is talking about love and commitment and loyalty he looks for her, her deep blue dress and the star-patterned jewelry she got from Luke's sister. He doesn't find her.

While Honor and Josh are taking pictures he races through every coatroom and ladies room and staff stairway; he strong-arms a waiter in to finding out if she left in a cab. He almost cries when he finds her sitting in a dark dressing room that reeks of hairspray and champagne.

"You cheated on me," she says hollowly. "Hell, you didn't just cheat on me, you _really_ cheated on me."

He thinks his heart stops. "We were broken up."

"You said that was something you told Honor to get her off your back, Logan, we weren't broken up!"

"We were. I didn't cheat on you."

"Stop lying to me!"

She rises, pacing and rubbing at her face and he wants to touch her. Her dress ripples violently around her legs and he wants to see it calm.

"Come on Rory, we can fix this," he says, surprisingly firm. "So what if I slept with those girls when we were broken up, I love you! We're good together. We can _be_ good together."

She scoffs. "When were we good, Logan? When I wasn't going to school? When I wasn't talking to my mom? Because that wasn't good for me!"

"Rory."

"I thought things felt weird after we got back together, but I thought we'd be okay. We'd work through it. We'd adjust. But maybe we can't."

"Rory, no."

"Not that it matters anymore."

Heat rockets through him and for a second he can't see. He can't feel his hands. "Why? Because I don't get along with your mom or your town? Because I don't shop at the Salvation Army? Because I'm not Clyde?"

"Jesus, Logan."

"How do I know you're not cheating on me, huh? How do I know you're not sleeping with Clyde or Jess?"

"I'm not cheating on you!"

"Then what is it? Because I love you, Rory. I _love_ you."

She laughs. It's low and wet, but through the dim light he can see that her eyes are bright. Revelatory. Sure. "I believe you. I'm just not the girl you fell in love with anymore."

He wants to hold her and beg her and argue until he's turned blue, because it can't end this way. He can write in a thousand books for her. He can explain about the Birkin bag. Instead, he watches her pick up her coat. Because he knows, as he did this morning and last week and last month, that's he's lost her.


	5. Chapter 5

Lover's Rock

Part V

He's been gone for six months and it's cold again. There are Christmas lights strung up around restaurant windows, and freshmen running around drunk wearing felt antlers, and he's heard Jingle Bell Rock ten times. Friday nights in New Haven aren't so different to Friday nights in London.

He's supposed to meet Colin and Finn for drinks, but first he goes to her apartment. He doesn't know why. He gave his key back eight months ago, and he left nothing behind, and he sure as hell isn't _pining_. He's gone on dates. He's had a bunch of one-night stands. He may not have a girlfriend but that doesn't mean anything; he doesn't want her back. And yet here he is, standing across the street. There's a tiny Christmas tree in her bedroom window.

"April, get the lead out!"

Suddenly she's on the sidewalk, all bundled up and dragging a suitcase towards a beat-up car. There's a man standing next to her wearing the beginnings of a beard. Logan thinks he met him, once.

"She's got the presents," Rory says, and his mouth goes dry.

"Nothing's breakable," the man says. "Except me, which your grandmother will use to her advantage if we're late."

"Jess."

"She'll have the maid bury me by the pool house."

"And ruin her roses?"

Jess takes the bag, stuffing it in the trunk and closing the lid. He touches her hair, curling it around her ear. When she smiles, it's impossibly bright.

"I can't believe they're getting married," she says. "In the snow! That's just so mom!"

"You do know this makes us cousins, right?"

She laughs. "You got a purtty mouth."

"Aw, jeez."

He kisses her, cradling her jaw in his hand and rubbing his thumb across the apple of her cheek. She makes a sighing, happy sound and Logan wonders if she is. She looks it, standing on tiptoe with her red cheeks and her fingers tickling Jess' arms, and he discovers that he's happy for her. He may have missed her so much that the scent of Dove soap made him ache, but he doesn't begrudge her happiness even if she doesn't find it with him. She deserves it, and he now knows, so does he. He's not sure if he believes in fate, but maybe this was meant to happen.

"Oh, gross!" a high voice says, a girl in glasses and an ugly yarn hat.

They separate slowly. "Sorry, April," Rory hums.

"I'm not sorry," Jess says.

"This family is so weird." April shoves two bulky plastic bags in the back seat, adjusting her mittens and leaning against the open door. "I tried explaining it to Freddy and he thought we should be studied. I've been reading a lot about sociology, and I might do that for the next science fair."

Jess snorts. "A truly modern American family."

"As American as apple pie," Rory says, "or Twinkies."

They pile in the car, the engine catching for a second before it starts and John Lennon hiccupping through the thin windows before Rory settles on a festive song, and then they drive off.

Logan will see her name, he is certain, beside articles and book reviews and on a single collection of short stories. He will see her grandmother at a party and hear that she moved to Philadelphia. He will listen to his mother complain about the engagement announcement Emily wrangled in to the society pages, the picture of the happy couple in ripped jeans and concert tees. He will stand across a ballroom as Richard shows off pictures of his great-grandchildren. But he will never see her again.

He lost her, and for the first time he knows that's okay.

* * *

Author's Note:

This is the end! I want to thank everyone who took the time to read and review, it really means a lot. I also want to thank LEJ418 for inspiring me to extend this piece, and Sirhith for inspiring me to post it in the first place. I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday, whatever you celebrate!


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